


nothing fucks with my baby

by potstickermaster



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: F/F, supposedly a villains au but i don't know anymore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-16
Updated: 2019-03-16
Packaged: 2019-11-19 07:22:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,470
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18132683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/potstickermaster/pseuds/potstickermaster
Summary: Detectives Arias and Lane have been trying to catch the elusive White Knight: thief, arsonist, and criminal mastermind. When they receive a tip that they would make an appearance at the National City  Millenium Auction, the partners are certain they would finally catch the criminal, but something just doesn’t add up.





	nothing fucks with my baby

**Author's Note:**

> FAIR WARNING!!!! supercorp / agentreign hardcore stans pls don’t interact and then subsequently hate me. this is supercorp but has hints of reigncorp and sam/lucy leave now if you’re not into that because you sure won’t have a fun time. also unbetaed and unread bc im a fucker
> 
> title from NFWMB by Hozier. shout out to em (@Scorsone81 on Twitter) and That tweet featuring redK!Kara and Lena in that suit from babi (@bottomlena which is the most correct thing ever) also personal apologies to milly because i wasn't able to add in her request here
> 
> no one cares but i literally had to go through several plot ideas (the first one of this published version featured james as guardian!) before settling with this one, so i hope it’s the right call. thanks for your time and i hope you like it i lost 12 of my 3 brain cells writing it thanks ily all

There’s quiet chatter in the hall as several well-dressed people mill about, checking out the items displayed for auction. Sam anxiously pulls her blazer sleeves to her elbows and looks around. There is an itch in her gut that she can’t quite figure out the cause of, and it doesn’t help that the department chief is persistently following up on the whole White Knight case. Lucy said it’s probably because the Mayor’s office is on his about the last time White Knight got the best of them.

It’s been three months since that whole… _thing._ Sam doesn’t want to think about it. It’s almost a relief they finally had a lead after so long, but considering what she could expect tonight, relief is something forbidden.

“You have visual on the place?” Sam asks no one. She stands nearer to the wall and crosses her arms. Static crackles in her ear.

“Not yet,” Lucy says through the comms, then whistles and makes a small sound of victory. “And we’re in. That was tougher than I thought.”

“Considering this place probably houses America’s greatest treasures at the moment…” Sam sighs. A man with two men in suits, clearly bodyguards with their built, walks in. Morgan Edge. Sam grits her teeth. That’s another man deserving of  multiple life sentences and yet remains scathe-free. “You’re sure they’ll hit this place?” She asks Lucy instead.

“I told you. The department’s sources say someone hacked into Castle Security and stole the building’s schematics a few days back,” Lucy says. “If it isn’t White Knight, then it’s _someone._ We’ll stop them either way.”

Sam purses her lips as she makes her way towards the displayed items. The brochure she was handed earlier listed some of the ones up for auction: some rare stamps, an orange balloon dog, several diamonds, some old wines, and the Codex Leicester. This auction is almost an open invitation to any and all thieves, not just the White Knight. It could explain the restlessness Sam feels.

Given that this building contained quite a fortune, the security is understandable. A requirement, even. Why the Mayor’s office wanted to have it done like this she doesn’t know, but at least it seems they are well-prepared. Aside from the police cars on stand-by outside, there are armed guards from one or two private companies everywhere, and whole place is practically locked down like a fortress. No one would dare steal from this place, not if they were in their right minds.

Was she waiting for no one then? Or is the White Knight indeed a true lunatic?

Sam walks past tall glass cases containing sets of diamonds. Fancy. In the corner of her eye she notices Maxwell Lord arrive with that usual pompous smirk that Sam wants to wipe away. Preferably with her fist on his face, but slapping cuffs around his wrists would be fine, too.

She feels someone bump into her.

“Shit, sorry,” a woman says, and Sam looks towards her. A woman in glasses, black sleeveless turtleneck and a patterned tight skirt stands before Sam. She has her blonde hair in a neat, tight bun. “Detective Arias,” she smiles as she steps back, recognition in her eyes. “Sorry about that. I wasn’t looking where I was going.” She lifts the tablet in her hands.

Sam furrows her eyebrows at the woman. “Sorry, have we met?”

“Oh, right!” The woman shakes her head. “No, but I do recognize you. You put that criminal Williams in jail. My employer was one of her victims.”

Sam slowly nods just as the woman offers her hand for her to shake. “I’m Claire Connors,” the blonde introduces. “I’m a… professional investment consultant.”

“Right.” Sam feels the tug in her gut again. She feels like she should know who this woman is, but she shakes her hand nonetheless. “And your employer is?”

Claire smiles mysteriously. “Confidential.”

Sam laughs. “Alright, that’s fair.”

The blonde looks around just as Sam slides her hands into her pockets. “You’re here though. For pleasure, I hope. If it’s for business, I’d be worried.”

“Ah.” Sam grins. This civilian might just panic if Sam says she _is_ here for business. “It’s not everyday that all these treasures gather under one roof. Had to see it for myself.”

Claire smiles and pushes her glasses up with her left hand. The lights in the hall catch on the gold band around her ring finger. “Glad you’re with us, then.” Claire hums and nods. “If you’ll excuse me.”

Sam watches her leave. “Can you check on her records?” She hears the sound of keys clacking in her ear.

“Already ahead of you,” Lucy comments. “Claire Connors, no criminal record of any sort but has a few unpaid parking tickets, graduated Marketing at NCU, works as a consultant for three years now.” Lucy clicks her tongue against her teeth. “Essentially tells rich pricks what to buy based on the items’ perceived value down the line.”

“Huh.” Sam looks to where Claire has gone. She has a clipboard with her now, writing down something as she goes around the room. “I suppose investment adviser is a fitting title. Odd choice for a Marketing graduate.”

Lucy snorts in her ear. “Aren’t you a management graduate or something?”

“And I manage just fine, Lane,” Sam says with a  roll of her eyes. Lucy snickers in her ear. An announcement echoes softly through the hall, saying the auction will begin in fifteen minutes. Sam walks to the end of the hall, where the press—specially selected publishers—were staying. She recognizes a few faces, friends of journalists who had their fair share of interviewing Sam. A particularly young-looking woman catches her attention. Sam could almost smell the fresh blood, what with enthusiasm practically radiating off of her. Her ID bears the CatCo logo.

The dark-haired woman looks over at Sam. The detective feels embarrassed at being caught staring before realizing the reporter isn’t looking at her. Sam follows  her line of sight to the door where another woman walks in. A sight, really; she seems to pull everyone’s attention to her but she only heads to the displayed diamonds Sam was looking at earlier. Her deep burgundy suit makes her look paler. Her black hair is in a high ponytail that highlights her sharp features, and Sam doesn’t think she’s seen a three-piece suit be carried with such grace. Unlike the many auction guests she has seen milling about, this woman doesn’t seem to have any security detail.

“Hottie alert,” Lucy says in her ear. “Who’s that?”

Sam rolls her eyes. “Aren’t you the one with facial recognition tech?”

“Sheesh, already on it.”

Sam pretends to read her brochure as she waits and listens to Lucy typing and clicking away.

“Alright. She’s Tess Mercer,” Lucy finally supplies in her ear. “Has family business in Kansas and Metropolis. Definitely rocking that suit nicely.”

When Sam looks up, she sees the woman in the burgundy suit talking to someone. “And apparently chummy with Morgan Edge,” Sam notes. She stares at her. She feels like she had seen her before. Somewhere. If she has a business in Metropolis, she must have cross paths with her sometime when she was still assigned there. That must be it.

Tess Mercer looks her way. Sam freezes at being caught staring, but Tess—Ms. Mercer?—doesn’t do anything but look back to Morgan and laugh at whatever he said. Sam feels an odd feeling at the back of her head again, like an itch she can’t quite scratch, some sort of gut feeling that… something is wrong. She grits her teeth. Where else could she have seen this woman?

Oh god. She couldn’t have possibly hooked up with her somewhat and forgot about it, right?

Sam shakes her head. Impossible. If she slept with _that_ woman, she would remember. Oh, she’d _definitely_ remember. Besides, this woman screams top, and very rarely does Sam—

She licks her lips. Okay, so she may not really mind being—

 _Okay._ Not the time and place to thirst after this stranger.

Tess nods at Morgan and seems to excuse herself. Sam turns her attention to the stage where a pair of organizers are setting up, but she barely conceals her panic as she notices Ms. Mercer make her way straight to her.

“Have we met?” She says, and Sam looks at her in the  most casual way possible. There is an apologetic smile on her dark red-painted lips and a perfectly-sculpted eyebrow raised. Sam manages a polite laugh as she puts her hands in her pockets before awkwardly crossing her arms. Lucy snickers in her ear.

“No, sorry, ah,” Sam offers her hand, her left gripping her right bicep. “Sam Arias. I’m just… Looking.”

Tess Mercer’s lips quirk into a small satisfied smirk but she shakes her Sam’s hand anyway. Her grip was firm, and Sam thinks she imagines the little jolt of electricity as they touched. She notices the metal band around Tess’  right thumb, cold against her skin, then a quick glance at the other and she finds a simple gold ring around her left ring finger.

“Huh. Married, it seems,” Lucy says in her ear. Sam wants to roll her eyes. Again.

“Tess Mercer,” the dark-haired woman introduces before slowly pulling back. She slides her hands into her pockets and smiles. The hem of her sleeves rise up just enough to reveal the watch on her left wrist. Big and looks expensive. Sometimes Sam wants to turn off the reflex to notice these kinds of things, but that was what years of detective work did to you. Tess ducks her head slightly to meet Sam’s distracted gaze, and the detective blushes slightly before forcing her eyes up.

“Sam Arias,” she repeats dumbly. Lucy laughs out loud in her ear, but at least Tess doesn’t.

“Thought you were someone whose business proposal I shut down,” she explains. “You never know with these kinds of things.” She chuckles and looks behind her.

That might explain her conversation with Morgan Edge, but if she works with that corrupt businessman, either she is in his games or she is also a victim.

“I can only imagine,” Sam says with a slight laugh. “I’m more of a school-level type of entrepreneur.” Tess’ green eyes are intense, like they could cut. There’s the odd feeling again in Sam’s gut. Anxiety? _Attraction?_ God, she doesn’t know what’s worse.

Tess only laughs. She opens her mouth to say something else but another soft announcement echoes to signal the start of the auction. She  excuses herself and walks to the front-row chairs, and Sam only watches her leave.

“Well, she’s rich,” Lucy says in her ear. “Front row seats for this auction cost extra, for some reason. Tess Mercer’s one fine sugar daddy candidate.”

“Can you _please_ keep it in your pants one sec?” Sam sighs. She could practically hear Lucy rolling her eyes through the comms.

“You were practically drooling over her earlier, Arias.”

“Ha, ha,” Sam shoots back, but she walks to the main hall to watch the start of the auction. Standing at the back of the last row, she watches Morgan, Max, and other filthy rich people take their seats, numbers in hand. She finds Claire, too, excusing herself as she walks past a few people to sit somewhere in the middle.

“Can you have cyber forensics run possible leads on who Claire Connors’ client is?” Sam tells Lucy. The other woman makes an affirmative sound.

“Show time,” Lucy says. Sam wonders if she is more on edge here than herself. General Lane had always been a pain in the ass for Lucy.

“Anything unusual?” Sam asks softly as she continues to look around. So far, nothing from her end. Lucy tells her there is nothing. _So far._ It only serves to make Sam’s uneasiness worsen.

Her unease turns into some sort of disbelief when the auction begins with that orange balloon dog and the auctioneer says the bidding starts at 30 million dollars.

“Are you shitting me?” Lucy says incredulously in her ear.

Apparently not, because the bidding war starts promptly after that. Sam watches on, flabbergasted, as the bid rose to 50 _fucking_ million dollars.

And then Claire Connors raised it to 53 million.

“Is she—”

“Do I hear 53 million and a hundred?” The auctioneer  calls out.

A number rises. Sam’s eyebrows raise when she sees it’s Tess Mercer.

“Fifty-five million.” Sam almost chokes on air. “Do I hear higher than 55?”

“Who drops 55 on that balloon animal, bet she’d—”

“Sold!”

The sound of the gavel striking echoes in the hall, and then darkness envelopes everything. Gasps echo in the room and it takes half a second for Sam’s senses to kick into gear.

“La—”

“I’m on it,” Lucy quickly says. Sam could hear the clicking of guns and the low murmur of the security personnel in the hall making a move. She takes her own gun from where she’s hidden it underneath her blazer and tries to scan the room. Nothing but darkness. Not even the emergency lights have kicked in.

 _“Lucy,”_ Sam hisses.

“Got it!”

The lights finally come back on. The guests have mostly stayed in their places save for those with bodyguards, currently shielding them from whatever caused the blackout.

“What happened, Lane?” Sam asks as she looks around, gun lowered but senses on high alert. The stage is cleared, the security in the room diminished by a couple of personnel that Sam thinks went out to check the perimeter. A quick count of the people in the room tells Sam she has more than five people unaccounted for.

The stage is cleared.

“Fuck.” Sam growls and checks possible exit points; she quickly runs out to the nearest door. “Lane. The balloon dog, the diamonds. They’re gone.”

“What do you mean _gone?”_

Sam turns at a corner and she almost trips on a body on the floor. Security detail, knocked out unconscious. There’s no blood, but Sam reaches out to check for pulse. _Not dead._

“I mean _gone._ It’s them. Send back-up and medics in, I’m chasing the one possible exit down.” She finds another unconscious guard, this time with blood on his shoulder. Still breathing. “Have them follow, but the security is pretty messed up. They know what they’re doing.”

“Careful, Sam.”

Sam laughs breathlessly as she pushes a door to a conference room open. “Always am, Detective Lane.”  

The room is clean. Sam heads to the next room just as she hears the thudding of boots distantly, letting her know back-up has arrived. She sighs in relief but keeps going. Another room checked out clean.

There is a bang from the next room.

Sam grits her teeth. As quietly as she could, she heads to the door and carefully places her hand on the doorknob. A slow turn tells her it’s unlocked. She hears a sound from the other side. She takes a deep breath.

A twist, then she’s raising her gun to eye level. _“Freeze!”_

Her gaze lands on two figures, still, eyes wide in shock. Sam’s own widen too when she realizes exactly what she is looking at.

It’s Claire Connors and Tess Mercer.

Specifically, Tess Mercer practically bent over some hardwood table,  trousers undone, bunched around her thighs, and Claire Connors pressed tightly against her back, her glasses askew, right hand definitely shoved between Tess’ legs.

Well.

“Shit, sorry!” Sam says, and she quickly turns around. She hears awkward laughter and the ruffling of clothes.

“It- It’s okay,” she hears Claire say. Sam tries to shake away the image she just saw.

“What are you two doing here?” Sam asks, confused as to why they would be here when she clearly saw Tess still bidding earlier for the orange balloon dog.

Cold dread runs down her spine. She grips her gun and slowly turns around, but it’s too late. As soon as she stands face to face with the pair, there is already a gun pointed at her.

Claire smiles sweetly. “We have to admit, your tech’s pretty good. We thought we’d get away with enough time.”

“Arias, what’s your status?” Lucy says in her ear. Sam takes a shaky breath.

“My tech’s name is _Lane,”_ she shoots back.

Tess clicks her tongue. “Right. Well. We do have to go, though, so.”

“Who are you?” Sam asks, pointing her gun at Claire, then at Tess. She wants to know. All this time she has been chasing after White Knight, never having a face to the name, and now she is in front of _two._ “Which one of you is White Knight?”

Tess raises an eyebrow. “Still fixated on that, I see. I make one mistake at a gig and that’s what I get called?”

 _“You’re_ White Knight?” Sam’s head reels. Here she was, in the flesh. Her white whale. She can finally close this case.

“Sam,” Lucy hisses in her ear. “What’s happening?”

“That’s what I said.” Tess steps forward. Sam lifts her gun to level between her eyes. The raven-haired woman only smiles. “That’s what I’ve been saying every time we meet, Detective.”

_What?_

Tess smiles. “Now please lower the gun. We don’t want anyone getting hurt now, do we?”

“What did you mean? Every time we meet?” Sam demands. Her finger itches to pull the trigger. “I have never seen you before!”

Tess only steps forward once more, until the barrel of Sam’s fun presses against her forehead. Claire makes a sound but Sam barely pays her attention. “Right…”

_“Tell me.”_

There’s a quick beeping sound that Sam hears. She whips her attention to the source, but by the time she could figure out what it is, it’s too late. The ceiling ahead collapses and smoke hisses into the room.

“Stay right there!” Sam demands. “Lane. Where’s my back-up?”

“Oh,” Claire chimes in. “My sister might have taken care of them.”

“Look, detective,” Tess says with a sigh, like she’s tired. “I’d love to stay and chat, but we got a flight to catch.”

“Stay—”

Tess _fucking_ waves her hand at her and then walks away, followed by Claire. The blonde leaves with a wink. Sam could only watch for a heartbeat; a rope drops from the hole in the ceiling.

Sam blindly fires her gun. She knows she hits someone when she hears a sharp cry.

Just then, something rolls to a stop in front of her.

 _Bomb,_ her mind screams.

She remembers Ruby.

 

 

 

The bomb beeps, then a high-pitched sound erupts in the room. Sam drops to her knees and covers her ears with both hands. She screams in pain and hears Lucy in her ear but it fades into nothingness.

Silence.

Silence.

Another beep. The explosion she has expected doesn’t come once more but instead, smoke escapes from the device.

She remembers Ruby, and then, darkness.

 

 

 

“Arias! Goddamnit.”

Sam groans. She feels someone shaking her awake, and she pushes the hands away. Five more minutes. Five more minutes…

“Sam, I swear to god if you don’t fucking wake up right now!”

Sam groans again. Lucy. She tries to blink away the heaviness in her eyelids. “What… What happened?”

She looks around. She is in the corridor with Lucy. Auction hall still. Her head hurts, and her lungs feel like they burn. There is relief in Lucy’s eyes when Sam meets her gaze. “You fucking scared me,” Lucy says, then pulls Sam in a tight hug.

Sam laughs softly and pats her shoulder. “What happened?”

Lucy furrows her eyebrows for a moment, then blinks. “I- The auction was attacked. Everything was stolen.”

Sam tries to sit up but her body burns. Lucy shushes her and lets her stay on her back. “Stay down. The medics are still checking on everyone else, but they’ll get to you next, okay?”

“It was the White Knight, wasn’t it?”

Lucy purses her lips. “At this point? We don’t know. But since it’s your usual clean job, we’re inclined to think it is.”

Sam sighs and closes her eyes. Her head hurts and her lungs burn, and there’s an unease that claws in her chest.

“Do you remember what happened?” Lucy asks softly.

Sam blinks. “What do you mean?”

Lucy looks worried now. She sighs. “I was in your ear the whole time. No visual, not in that room, but I heard you talking to… White Knight, I suppose.” She bites her lip. “You _saw_ her face, and implied that you’ve met a couple of times.”

Sam laughs nervously. “What?”

“I’m just saying what I heard, Sam.” Lucy looks behind her and leans forward. When she speaks, her voice is much softer. “We’ve known each other a while, and I know police pay isn’t that much, but—”

“Don’t go there,” Sam hisses. Lucy purses her lips. Sam forces herself to sit up and her head spins. She presses her hands on her temples. “I would _never_ do that. _Never._ Not even when I’m desperate.”

“Then how—”

“I don’t know!” Sam sighs and runs her hands through her hair. What is Lucy talking about? She could never be part of something the White Knight would do. She would _never_ be an accomplice either, but if Lucy is right that she indeed saw that criminal and then _forgot,_ she might as well be.

Sam sighs again. “Don’t you have CCTV footage?”

Lucy opens her mouth to speak before promptly closing it. She shakes her head. “That’s the thing,” she sighs. “I’ve been trying to look through the recording of earlier, but nothing. And I mean absolutely _nothing_ out of the blue. Either they weren’t there or—”

“Or they deleted themselves out of the footage,” Sam supplies. “Is that- Is that possible?”

“I suppose? I don’t know.”

Sam groans and runs her hands down her face in frustration. Another failed mission to catch the elusive White Knight. The department chief will be on hers and Lucy’s ass again, that was for certain. Anxiety chips away at the back of her mind at the thought.

“Let’s just get you checked first, okay?” Lucy offers. “Then we’ll drive you home. Chief told us to report first thing tomorrow.”

“Fuck.”

Lucy smiles sadly and pats Sam’s shoulder. “I’d invite you to go drinking but I know you’d rather spend the evening with Ruby. Especially after...”

Sam nods. She gives Lucy a thankful smile. A medic approaches her with a kit. “You can pay for coffee tomorrow,” she says with a small laugh as the medic checks her for injuries. “I might just go insane if I meet with Henshaw without caffeine.”

“You got it, Arias.”

 

 

 

“Hello, Samantha.”

Sam jolts awake. She can’t move, though. How many hours had she been asleep? The familiar scent of her room is comforting but the voice…

She looks around and finds the source. There is a woman in her room, standing by the foot of her bed and looking down on her. Cold dread runs down her spine. The woman is wearing a black dress shirt and a deep burgundy waistcoat. Her black hair is in a high ponytail that highlights her sharp features, and if  she hadn’t broken into Sam’s home, she would have found her stunning.

“Who are you?” Sam asks, immediately trying to sit up but realizing she couldn’t. She tries again. Something she can’t see is holding her down and she could only glare at the woman. _“Who are you?”_

The woman sighs and shakes her head. “You have to stop asking me that everytime we meet.”

_What?_

Sam growls and tries to move again. If she could only reach for her gun. “I have never seen you before.”

At this, the woman sighs again. She reaches for the buttons of her left sleeve and begins to roll it up her elbows. Beneath her panic and anger an itch crawls in the back of her head.

“What the _fuck_ do you want from me?” Sam demands.

“Nothing, really.” The woman steps forward, until she is standing on Sam’ left, against the light coming from the window. It glints on the metal rings the woman wears, one on her right thumb, another around her left ring finger. She grits her teeth as she tries to move again but she just smiles. “Normally I’d let you fight, but Kara is already pissed we’re here when we could already be in Paris, so I’ll be quick.”

_Kara? Who is Kara?_

“Usually I’d forgive. After all, it’s not your fault you don’t remember. But maybe your subconscious would.”

Sam clenches her fists and tries to push away the invisible force that hold her down. Remember what?

The woman’s voice turns cold. Chilling. “Aim well the next time you shoot a gun, Samantha. I take grief better than I do threats.”

“Lena.” Another voice. Sam whips her attention to the direction of it and finds a familiar-looking blonde though she cannot, for the life of her, _remember_ who she is. She has a burgundy jacket draped over her shoulders and wears a skirt, but it’s the white gauze around her left side that has Sam staring. “Alex is waiting,” she says.

The dark-haired woman—Lena?—sighs, then gives Sam a tight smile. “Here’s a threat for you. How well do _you_ handle grief, hm?”

Sam’s blood boils. “Don’t you dare—”

“Try to remember that I will, Samantha,” the woman says. She leaves an item on Sam’s bedside table: a white chess piece. The detective feels panic and anger and _terror_ as the dark-haired woman walks to the blonde.

“Leave Ruby out of this!” She screams.

Lena only glances back at her, before pulling the blonde into a kiss. “Paris awaits, my lady,” she whispers against her lips.

And they are gone.

There is beep. The invisible weight on her disappears. Sam reaches for her gun and moves to make a run for it, but then a high-pitched sound screeches painfully in her room and all Sam could do is melt into silence.

And then, darkness.

 

 

 

“I had a weird dream last night,” Lucy mumbles while they are in the elevator on their way up to the chief’s office. She fidgets with her hands before sliding them to her pockets. “Some… Woman visited me.”

Sam looks beside her and chuckles, though an odd feeling settles in her chest. She doesn’t know what it is. “You sure that’s a dream?” She teases. “Or did you end up getting wasted _again_ and you don’t remember hooking up with some woman?”

“Shut up, Arias,” Lucy just laughs, just as the elevator dings open. She walks  forward and throws Sam a smirk over her shoulder. “You’re just jealous. Now come on.”

Sam laughs and shakes her head fondly before following Lucy. Right, that must be the weird feeling she has. Jealousy.

  
  



End file.
